From its inception, the United States Senate was always meant to be a beacon for civilized debate and rational thought about the nation’s most pressing political issues. The Founders foresaw the need to check the unwieldy members of the House and their constant two-year revolving election cycles with a body that could be wiser, more informed, and more willing to put the needs of the entire nation above their individual electoral or partisan aspirations.
The best evidence of this argument comes from the Constitution itself. Article I establishes the Senate with a 35-year age requirement—ten years higher than that of the House—and provides for Senators to be appointed by their respective state legislatures for a term of six years. Even after the Seventeenth Amendment provided for the direct election of senators, the reputation of the Senate as a calm, debate-centric institution remains within the culture of the chamber to this day. The Senate’s own book of traditions highlights the nickname “The World’s Greatest Deliberative Body” as an homage to the chamber’s original mission.
Today, though, the Senate is in disarray. Constant partisan squabbling over minuscule details often delays or obstructs bills that both sides agree are beneficial to the American public at large. There is no better example of this disarray than the squabbling over consumer financial protection in 2010, as described in Robert Kaiser’s book Act of Congress. That year, Democratic Senator Chris Dodd worked tirelessly with his Republican colleagues Richard Shelby and Bob Corker to craft a bill to prevent the financial crisis of 2008 from happening again. Just as the bipartisan bill was nearing completion, then-Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell forbade Corker and Shelby from collaborating with Dodd on the bill, defeating the possibility of collaboration between the senators and effectively scoffing at the Senate’s original mission of building consensus. I chose this example not because it privileges one party over another, but rather because of the unparalleled access given to an intentionally obscured partisan machine. We know that Republican senators were interested in working with Dodd, but were eventually pressured by their party against a bill they believed would help their constituents and the nation.
But how did we get here? What was it about the rules of the Senate that enabled such dysfunction to take root, and how might we go about reversing the trend? In 1917, the Senate had become overrun with long speeches, dubbed “filibusters,” whose sole purpose was to delay the vote on a particular measure. The delay was possible thanks to the rules allowing for unlimited debate, as discussed earlier. That March, the Senate amended its rules to allow two-thirds of its members to vote to end debate within the next 30 hours, forcing another vote on final passage. This restriction on debate is now referred to as “cloture,” and its threshold has since been reduced to the more familiar three-fifths of the chamber (or 60 senators).
While the first reform seems rather benign, I argue that the second reform laid the groundwork for the deadlocked chamber we see today. In 1972, Senator Mike Mansfield introduced the “silent filibuster,” which effectively stopped debate on a bill whenever any senator indicated their desire to filibuster, cutting out the requirement for debate entirely. Under the new rules, the Senate considers the filibuster at one point during the day, then continues regular business at a different point in the day. The process of allowing other bills to continue while holding the filibustered bill on the floor was later dubbed the “two-track system.”
In theory, two-track sounds great. No single senator can unilaterally derail the entire Senate’s business indefinitely. In practice, though, it allows important issues to be sidelined by partisan actors instead of allowing debate to continue. Important bills are sometimes held in two-track for so long that they expire despite having the support of a simple majority. Party leaders on both sides of the aisle have abused the system to such a point that their deputies often intend to filibuster every bill produced unless they agree completely with its contents.
Debate is a critical part of the Senate’s function, so we should return that ability to the Senate floor by removing the two-track system. If a senator wishes to stop a bill, they can convince their colleagues of the merits of their argument on the Senate floor as the Founders intended. While some may see this as a return to even more delays and inaction, I believe that keeping cloture alive while forcing debate for filibusters is an important step in reducing polarization and increasing cooperation between parties. If a senator wishes to block floor consideration of a bill, they can do so by speaking their mind to convince their colleagues. If enough of the chamber has heard enough, three-fifths of the chamber can vote to end debate at any time. Removing two-track would allow the Senate to maintain its minority rights by requiring 60 members to end debate, while ensuring that partisan machinations do not affect a bill’s right to be debated at length on the floor. Even if these debates are not entirely about the bill, they do generate headlines and stir the national conversation instead of shelving the issue and smothering a bill until it becomes irrelevant.
I do not believe that this—admittedly small—change will be able to single-handedly vanquish the epidemic of partisan politics and infighting that have infected the Senate. But perhaps this procedural change will bring the Senate closer in line with its founding principles, enabling debate where only silence has prevailed.
Image by Harold Mendoza on Unsplash
